Fire In The Night
by momoli
Summary: Lana meets a mysterious returning customer at the bar who seems terribly familiar. Who is he, and why does he spend every night cuddled up with a glass of whiskey? Blaine/OC    somewhat different than the summary states


**a/n**

**~Hey guys. In my frustration and lack of inspiration for my other stories (for quite some time), I've come up with a gaggle of ideas for fics I could possibly write. Only problem is getting started and keeping to them, and keeping up inspiration for them. I've figured maybe I can write a short, somewhat fast-paced fic, somewhat of a one-shot but not really, as it will be more than one chapter, not sure if there's some sort of term for that. I've noticed there are literally NO fanfics for Blaine out there, and I pity the poor guy, so, here goes: My first Blaine fic (and my first attempt at a short-story). My apologies ahead of time if it's not up to par/what any of you are interested in reading.  
****xo **

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The petite girl rushed to the back door of the bar. A nice bar, clean, but still shady. A bar is a bar, after all. The night was young, only 11pm, but she was already running late.  
She took a deep breath of the fresh, open air before she had to go inside.  
She pushed the door open, throwing her half-apron around her waist and tying it in the back. Her hair was already up, so she was all ready to get to work. She clocked in, noticing she was thirteen minutes late, inwardly cursing at herself. She really had to stop running so late all the time. All those minutes were adding up.  
"Lana, you're late!" she hears, knowing it's the man waiting for her to take over the shift. She rolls her eyes. Chad, his name was, was a total sweetheart, when things went his way. If you crossed him, you dealt with his feminine-sounding scolding, which was sometimes hard to take seriously. Not to mention, she'd known him for years, as they were close friends, and knew mostly everything about each other. He confided in her about the men that gave him troubles in his life, and to repay her for listening, he never told their boss about how tardy she always was.  
She was grateful, but sometimes trying to remember if he was with Michael, Steven, or Blake with this week.  
"Hello darling, about time you rolled in," his sarcasm dripped as she walked behind the counter, smiling at him. He kissed her on the cheek as she gave him a small hug before begining to wipe down the counter. Any presumption about gay men being tidy were completely wrong; Chad could be a total slob sometimes, leaving spilt drinks and empty beer bottles on the counter tops. Chad still had a half hour left, and seeing Lana start to clean the bar, picked up the bottles in the way of her wiping, and started telling her about the customers they had tonight.  
Lana tried to pay attention.

"And she looked like she was wearing a peacock.. so ridiculous..  
"The hugest nose to ever grace a face..  
"Uma Thurman eyes..  
"He was cute.. nothing compared to Dylan."  
"Dylan?" Lana's ears pricked, looking at her friend. Dylan was a name not heard yet. "Who's Dylan?" she raised her eyebrows questioningly.  
"Ohhh," Chad gushed, "we met at the _supermarket_, of all places.. he's so _beautiful_ Lan! We have a date tomorrow night.." he was starting to drool, his eyes sparkling. Lana laughed; he was adorable when swooning over some new piece of meat. Next week it will be another man, and Dylan will have five hundred faults that are unforgivable.  
"But, yeah, _that one_.." Chad said, hushed in a whisper. "He's been here way too long. A moper, it seems." his eyes pointed to a man at the end of the counter who stared down at his glass half-empty.  
Lana instantly pitied the man; she'd seen so many just like him, with so many different stories. Lives are falling apart: wives left them, family disowned them, they just found out they have a short amount of time left to live..  
She's heard it all. Some seemingly fake, but, when you don't even know a person, how can you judge their tale? As a bartender, all you can do is sit there and listen.  
And provide their way out, obviously. Booze, booze, and more booze. And a little advice, sometimes. Some people don't want it; some look at you as if your insight is about to change their lives.  
Then they disappear into the night, and you never know what becomes of them.

Chad's shift was over, and he left Lana to work after he said his goodbyes. A tight hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a wink for good luck. You never know who'll walk in, and sometimes you need all the luck you can get.  
Luckily for Lana, the Arcanine Alehouse was not too busy at all. Everyone around was being relatively well-behaved, albeit loud.  
She looked down towards the man at the end of the counter. He had on a dark grey sweater, a red shirt visible from under the collar. He was hunched over his glass, now empty, his dusty blonde locks so long, almost touching the rim. Sunglasses, although it was relatively dark inside the Alehouse, hid his eyes. What were they possibly hiding? Sadness, tears? Anger, rage?

Only one way to find out.  
This was the more enjoyable part of her job; getting to know people.

She made her way down toward him, and he lifted his head. She smiled at him, and he nudged his glass forward. She swiped it out from in front of him.  
"What can I get for you, sir?" the smile still on her face. Behind the sunglasses, an eyebrow rose.  
"Just some more whiskey, miss."  
Lana nodded; a good choice. Usually they meant someone was trying to have a really good time, or really trying to forget about something.  
She filled the glass quickly and placed it in front of him. She poured herself a glass of water and pulled up a stool behind the counter to sit across from him.  
"Mind if I sit? No one else is at the counter to make conversation with." she offered. The man shrugged, giving a small 'hmph' in reply. He promptly swallowed the contents of the glass, and she smiled when he slammed it back down onto the bar. She sipped her water, waiting.  
When minutes passed and he didn't speak, she was baffled. Usually when she sits in front of someone at the bar, their problems just seem to fall out of their mouth at her. But, not this man, and it puzzled her.  
He finally opened his mouth. "Fill 'er up." he said, and pushed the glass at her again. She nodded, not about to deny this man her own favorite drink. Even if she couldn't drink on the job, it was nice to watch someone else enjoy it.  
When she turned back around, there was a large tip on the counter. The man was nowhere in sight.

"Lana!" she heard, and turned around. Rachel was there, ready to take over her shirt.  
Lana looked at the clock. 1am already? Apparently the minutes of silence between her and that man lasted longer than she thought.  
She stood, took the tip, stuffed it in her apron pocket, and smiled at Rachel. The two nodded at each other, not very close, and Lana left to go home.

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~so, that's it, the first installment of this Blaine short story. I know it's not much, but hopefully I can keep going with this, as I already know exactly where I want it to lead and how I want it to do so.

**Not much to review on, but, thanks for reading anyway!  
(Also, anyone could possibly suggest a better title - please do, as I'm stumped as to what to name this)  
xo**


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